


Where's Berwald?

by FMB



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Gen, High School, Human Names, Magic, Zombies, first chapter is first pov, rest of it is third pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FMB/pseuds/FMB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prestigious magic-friendly private school is shaken to it's core when a student accidentally creates what is called the Dragoste Formula, poisoning half the school and transforming a good portion of them into zombies. The only way out is through the gates, which have been locked and cannot be opened by anyone other than the Dean, or his son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where's Berwald?

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is in first person pov, but the rest of it isn't, so if you don't like first person, you can just skip it. It's sort of just a summary of what Basch goes through.

Where’s Berwald?

That’s what was on our minds. That was all that was on our minds, aside from surviving. We looked everywhere for him. High and low, far and wide. Well, as far as the gates would let us.

 

Where’s Berwald?

He was the Dean’s son. He had the key. If it even was a key. Maybe it was a code, or a spell, or a motion, but it didn’t matter what it was. He had it. We needed it. We needed him.

 

Where’s Berwald?

Oh God. Oh God oh God its spreading. But we didn’t even eat it, there was none left! It’s... It’s spreading faster! The gates, the gates, we have to get to the gates, we have to get out of here! Why are they locked? Why would they ever be locked? Were they always like this?!

 

Where’s Berwald?

They’re slow, but they’re dangerous. They’re dumb but they’re strong. They don’t plan, they just do. And that’s what gets us. They’re so random, so sporadic, so unpredictable. They appear almost out of nowhere, grabbing whatever victim in their reach. Once they have them, they’re gone. They’re slow, but they’re thick when they’re together. Their hordes are impenetrable. They’re horrifying.... mostly because.... They were people we knew... People we loved....

I still have Lili at least.....

 

Where’s Berwald?

Why can’t we find him?! Where would he go?! We found... found the blueprints a-and everything! We searched every room! He wasn’t... He wasn’t in the hordes was he? N-no, no I saw him just after the Torching h-he has to be....

Oh God.... Berwald they.... They’re gone.... They’re all gone.... It’s just... just me.... Just....

 

Oh God.... Lili.....

 

I.... I can’t, Berwald. I can’t find you. I can’t save Lili. I can’t find the key.

 

The key....

 

The damn key...

 

We always left you out, Berwald. We always ignored you. We always cheated off of you, then hated you for being so smart. You were the last pick for any sport. You never said anything about it to anyone.

 

You must have hated us. Loathed us. Wanted us to burn.

 

Well that’s what we’re doing, asshole. We’re burning. THEY’RE burning! Even now, even after months of this running about and hiding and trying to survive, they’re still burning! They’re still screaming! Crying out, “Why?! Oh dear God, _why us_?!”

 

Well?! WHY us, Berwald?! Are you just.... hiding somewhere?! Watching us?! Watching me?! You did this, Berwald! You killed Lili! You killed her, and Roderich, and Francis, and.... and.... and everyone!

 

And now I’m going to die too......

 

Oh god.....

 

I don’t want to die.... I don’t....

 

Berwald....

 

Where are you?

 


	2. It Begins With A Grunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basch needs socks. Wardrobes have socks. You know what else has socks? Not Basch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at that, third person pov.

Panting, he burst through the door, tucking himself into the wooden closet, hiding behind discounted jackets and moth-eaten shirts. One whiff and he closed his eyes, regretting the room he chose to hide in. Kiku always had the strange, warm tea scent on him. The flavour always changed... His scent was always uplifting during finals week....

A thud brought him back to reality. He clenched his jaw and gripped his rifle, not daring to move any more. He heard a scrape along the carpet. A soft groan. Rattled breathing. He remembers this one. He shot him before, countless times. The last time he did, he must’ve shattered his knee cap. It should have healed by now, but knowing these creatures, they wouldn’t have a doctor to go to.

The bed creaked and groaned. He heard a sigh, then the sound of scratching at the bedpost.

“What is he doing...?” He thought to himself, not daring to peer through the door in case of giving up his position. He heard a soft series of groans and grunts, almost like some sort of... child...

He almost couldn’t help himself, his hand shakily left his rifle and was close to touching the door when he heard it.

“M....Mo-oom....”

He froze, not believing what he heard. It was just a grunt, he told himself, not a word, just a grunt.

“Mo-o-om...”

Just a grunt. Just a grunt.

“Mom....”

They’re can’t talk. They’re not human. They can’t feel.

“I....t..... It.... h-.... hu-u-u-r...ts.....”

“Oh God...” he nearly sobbed, then he clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening when he realized what he did. It was barely a second later when the door swung open, mud-brown bloodshot eyes glaring down at him.

“Basch.” He practically hissed, setting practically every vein the little blond had on fire. He didn’t have to rethink his actions, he just turned his gun upwards and pulled the trigger, feeling the gunpowder and blood splatter against his face and arms. He heard him scream, a normal response from being shot in the chest. He kicked with his right foot, throwing the creature - human?- back onto the bed, giving him space to get up and run out the door, only to be surrounded by a small horde. Six, maybe seven of them, turned to stare blankly at Basch, as if trying to process what was in front of them.

He considered going back, but one glance into the room and he saw the blood covered being falling onto the ground and crawling a bit too quickly towards him, growling. It would have scared him shitless if he hadn’t seen this happen practically daily. The three others that were immediately in front of them seem to have been set off at the growl, and they dropped their jaws, letting out a sickening screech that would have stunned Basch during his first few weeks in this apocalyptic world. He lifted his gun and pulled the trigger, firing three more times before he was empty. He loved his .22, but he hated it only held 14 rounds.

“Not like this.” Basch muttered, tugging the gun strap off of his shoulder and using the butt of his rifle to slam against their skulls, knocking them back, before turning towards the brown-eyed one crawling towards him, still hissing in hatred. He lifted his gun to slam, and while he brought it down on his skull, he recognized him. The messy hair and blood-covered face hid it well, but he could recognize the stray curl anywhere, even in that mop.

Feliciano. He had shot Feliciano.

This knowledge, however, didn’t affect the strength he put into the slam, and the cracking noise that nearly echoed through his head didn’t hurt Basch in the slightest. When he stood up straight and took for the window, stepping onto the motionless victim without thought, he didn’t look back for Feliciano. It had crossed his mind, and he understood what he was thinking, but it didn’t change anything in him.

It did, however, seem to have touched one of the other creatures in a way Basch had never seen before. He had just opened the window when he heard the cry of what could have only been despair. He knew it well, but was estranged to the noise. The last time he had heard it was when Lili...

This was no time for that. He had to get out through the window. But Basch made a mistake. Just as the cry died down and his leg snuck through the opening, he looked back to see what was unmistakably Feliciano’s brother, Lovino, touching the still motionless body, as if he were actually dead. As if he were mourning, he dug his dirt-encrusted fingers into the torn clothes of his brother’s, letting out a softer cry, almost human this time. Basch was just about to duck his head through the window when he and Lovino made eye contact. Basch paused for a second, witnessing for the first time what he wish he never saw.

Lovino was crying. They were definitely tears, even though they mixed with blood, spit, and dirt as they ran down his hollowed cheeks. He let out another shriek of anguish, doubling over and continuing to dig into the body beneath him with his dull fingertips, as if the cry was actually hurting him physically.

Basch slipped out the window, but the cry followed him as he slid to the edge of the roofing, his heels catching the rain pipe. He used his momentum to launch himself off the roof, stretching out his arms and pedalling his legs, trying to reach a tree branch that was just a few feet away. He threw out his arms, his fingers brushed the wood, but he wasn’t able to grab, and he dropped into the shallow snow, feeling the ground resonate through his legs, even as he rolled forward. He stopped on his back, groaning and gasping in pain as he clawed his calves. He nearly had the wind knocked out of him, but he caught his breath and sucked up the pain, using the tree to get back to his feet and stagger away from the building, the scream still echoing through the frosty air.

When the pain subsided enough for him to walk straight again, he made his way to the janitor’s shack, the closest building to the gate he could find that was loaded to the ceiling with weaponry. Or at least, what could be used to smash in skulls and blow up buildings.

When the shack was in sight, Basch looked around, searching for the tree stump that was ten feet and five inches away from the left wall. He measured. He remembered the number. When he spotted it, he went straight for the stump, stepping up on the somewhat warped nub in the ground, barely getting a foot of elevation. He scanned the ground, then the horizon on all sides of him. Not a creature in sight, and no footprints or drag marks. Of course, it had been snowing on and off lately. He looked closer towards the snow, then took a careful step off the stump, towards the shack. He hung his rifle on his shoulder again, crouched down, and dug through the snow slowly, until he reached pavement. He dug a bit more, uncovering a small, sharpie-drawn arrow pointing to his left.

He took five steps left, then crouched again. He dug through the snow, finding the next arrow easily, pointing forward.

He took five steps forward.

He continued this process, going left, right, forward, and occasionally backwards, until he reached the door to the shack. He sighed when he pushed open the blue-painted metal door, and when he stepped into the barely warm building, he felt a sense of safety wash over him. He knew it was a false sense of security, and that eventually the creatures will invade, but he also knew he had some time. He loaded up his rifle and hung it on a rack decorated with other rifles, each a different type. They were always loaded, but he would never take ammo with him. He knew he could be trigger happy at times, and he really couldn’t waste his limited stash on target practice.

He started undoing his pants as he walked towards the back of the building, then tugged them and his boxers down to his knees as he plopped down on a rock-hard mattress, lifting up foot after foot to remove his shoes before kicking aside his clothing. He didn’t have time to get sick, and he knew being wet and cold was worse than just being cold. He stuffed a hand under the pillow on the bed, pulling out a small laptop connected to a solar panel that was installed on the roof. He flipped it open, not caring to have a lock on it since no one there would have been able to get in. When it heated up and started running, he saw he left the media player screen up, his last video ready to play.

Basch stared at it for a minute, wondering if he should, then he set the computer aside and hit the spacebar, setting the video into action.

“Year.... three.... Day one hundred and.... twenty five....” The speakers whispered. He didn’t dare to turn it higher for fear that the creatures would find him.

He didn’t realize he sounded so tired.

“I tried looking for more... canned foods.” He said, rocking forward and back, rubbing his hands together, “I think I found a stash.... I just need to break the locks. They’re in the back of the storage unit, covered, um, by a tarp.”

Basch turned away from the video, letting it continue to run as he dug through his drawers, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers and pants. He tugged them on mechanically.

“I think, even if there isn’t any food under there.... or if its spoiled, the tarp could be turned into a jacket or.... poncho...? It’s been snowing harder recently...”

It had let up today, Basch thought, buttoning his pants, then pulling his shoes back on. He rarely left them off for too long. Never knew when he needed an out, definitely in this weather.

“I’ll take Cassidy with me. She’s been good at smashing and breaking.” Cassidy was his .22 rifle. She definitely was a gun made for breaking, even if she wasn’t intended for it. Basch looked over at his rack of rifles, mentally thanking his ‘companion’.

“We need socks.” The video continued, “They’re starting to get holes. Oh, also, we need to clip these claws. They’re tearing holes in our socks.”

Basch sighed. He forgot to look for socks. He looked down at his shoes, contemplating whether or not he should take them off again just to clip his nails. They definitely needed it. He could almost feel them bump against the front of the shoe.

He kicked off his boots again, grumbling to himself.

“I think there’s a nail clipper in the tool box. Don’t.... uh.... Don’t use your teeth again.... Remember that time we got-”

“Athlete’s mouth.” Basch said along with his digital counterpart. They both shared a dry, shameful laugh, and Basch got up to look through the toolbox tucked in the corner of the shack. It was pretty large, five drawers, and it was on wheels. One of the wheels was broken, though, and it made a horrible scraping noise whenever he tried to move it, which he didn’t anymore. He ruffled through the various wrenches and screwdrivers and such.

“Anyway.... I think.... tomorrow. Tomorrow the gate will be open. It can’t stay closed forever.”

He found the nail clipper and made his way back to the bed, his toes and heel starting to get cold from the floor. He sat down and brought his foot onto his knee and started clipping away, taking care not to clip too close to the skin.

“I checked today... In the morning... still locked, but... but it’ll definitely be open this time. For sure. I can... I can feel it.”

Basch shook his head at his past self, going on to his next foot and continuing the pedicure.

“On my way there, uh.... I checked the Torching. Still screaming, of course.... I think.... I think I saw our alchemy teacher there. Mr.... Mr.....”

Basch tried to think too, tried to remember who their alchemy teacher was from so long ago. Neither of them remembered.

“Well, I thought I saw him... It’s hard to tell because of the... y’know.... flames and stuff.”

They both sighed.

“I... Didn’t see him today either. In the Torching, I mean. It’s hard to tell with the hordes.... I mean... you shoot them every day- We shoot them every day, so what could have been a new one turns out to just be a disfigured old one. Which reminds me..... about the hordes....”

Basch turned towards the screen, watching himself lean forward and bring his fingers to his lips in thought, eyes downcast and face tinted blue from the light.

“I... I think I’ve noticed it before, too, but.... I noticed the hordes have been.... getting faster.” He looked up at the screen, up at Basch.

“It could just be my imagination, but I swear it took them fifteen minutes to get from the art studio to the front gate before. This time, when I went to the gate, they got there in thirteen.....”

Basch narrowed his eyes a little, remembering it easily. It threw him off guard, but he had originally dismissed it as a mistake on his part. But with what happened today....

The Basch on screen looked at his watch as it beeped, then pressed a button to silence it. He looked at the screen again, then bowed his head and pressed both thumbs against his forehead.

“O God... who are the only source of health and healing... the spirit of calm and the central peace of this universe.... grant to me such a consciousness of your indwelling and  surrounding presence that I may permit you to give me health and strength and peace...... through Jesus Christ our lord..... Amen....”

“I’m not religious....” Basch murmured, just to be echoed by the Basch on screen.

“I’m just scared....” Digital Basch finished, and Basch swallowed thickly and bowed his head, scratching the back of his neck shyly, as if he were talking to someone else. The video stopped, and Basch took a minute to reflect. When he felt ready, he took in a deep breath and sat up straight, then looked out the window. The sun was starting to set. It wasn’t smart going out at night, he knew that, but he just had to check the gate again. He had gotten so caught up on the food cans -which turned out to just be more condensed milk- that he ran out of time.

He had night vision goggles... but if he wore them when he walked past the Torching....

He decided he would just have to take them off when he got there.

He looked out the window again, thinking he would only have about twenty, thirty minutes until the light was gone. He pulled his boots on once again and grabbed the tarp he had managed to nab from his searching that day. He would get the condensed milk tomorrow. He wrapped the tarp around his shoulders, using a bungee cord to keep it in place, then he grabbed Cassidy and hung her around his shoulder. He went through his piles of things, finding the night vision goggles on a countertop next to a few matchboxes, which he grabbed too, just in case.

He put the goggles on his head, not planning to actually wear them until it got dark, then headed out, following his previously undug arrows to get out of his yard. When he reached the stump, he took a step onto it and looked around, scanning the horizon again, but seeing nothing unusual. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, thinking to himself for the nth time that day that he should really try and find some gloves.

His walk would take five minutes to reach the Torching, then five minutes from there to the gate. He checked his watch, making sure he would get there on time. By this time, he knew the hordes would most likely be back in the art studio. That was the warmest place in the school, and even though they wouldn’t die, they sure liked their heat.

“Damn....” Basch thought, keeping his eyes forward and his pace quick, “This was a school, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t look at the buildings as he passed. He had to keep his eyes on the goal, or else he could make a mistake. Even with his eyes fixed, though, his memories ran away with him.

He passed the entrance to the C-Dorms. He used to bunk there with his little sister, Lili. She was just a couple of years younger than him, but she tried her hardest to act like their mother. Whenever Basch would tear his clothes or get injured in P.E., she would be there to sew the holes shut and kiss his wounds. He loved and cherished her completely, and he knew she adored him as well. She was so shy around all the other students, too, but she would try and try again to be like Basch sometimes. Once, some of the others actually mistook her for him. It caused a bit of an upheaval, but in the end, they all laughed about it.

That was the first time Lili had really come out of her shell. She and ‘Chelles got along wonderfully...

Basch could smell the smoke. He was two minutes away from the Torching. He knew he would see it when he turned the corner, but that didn’t slow him down.

They had put the Torching in the middle of the park grounds. Everyone was told to attend. Well, everyone who wasn’t sick, but even they watched through the windows when it came to it. They had made a huge bonfire out of wood and coal and charcoal, strapping most of the creatures to the planks and stacking them on top of each other. When the fire was set, all of the creatures started to yowl and scream in agony. Everyone had gotten nauseous, but only a handful actually vomited. Lili was one of them, but she got sick when they had gone back to their room. Basch sat beside her and held her hair out of her face as she was sick, then rubbed her back when she was curled up in bed. He had even sung her a lullaby their mother used to sing, but he murdered the chorus terribly when he forgot the words. They had a small laugh together, and she helped him finish it.

The Torching was in sight now. The screams had died down, but they still groaned and whimpered. By now, the flame that kept them burning was coming from their reproducing skin. All the wood and such had burned out. Even the ropes that kept them bound had snapped, but they wouldn’t move. They just laid in a heap, howling through the day and moaning through the night.

Basch paused for a minute, scanning the melting faces of the damned for him.

He didn’t find him.

He continued walking, checking his watch to find he was still on time. He peered towards the horizon for a second, seeing the sun continue its descent. Adjusting Cassidy on his shoulder, he started to hum the lullaby he sung to his sister. He wasn’t a great singer, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

When the gate was in sight, he continued his pace and his humming, even though he could see clearly enough that it was still closed.

“The little stars are lambs, I guess... moon’s a Shepherdess..... sleep, baby, sleep....  
“ he sung quietly, reaching the gold-plated bars and looking up and down them. He reached out a hand and rattled the gate gently, the lock staying resilient. He sighed, but didn’t remove his hand. Instead, he put his other hand on the bar beside it, and tried to lift himself up. He didn’t have a place to put his foot, however, and he dropped back into the snow. He removed both hands, then tried squeezing his shoulder between the bars. He may have gotten leaner, but it seemed as if the gate had too. He took a step back and huffed in defeat and annoyance. He looked around quickly. It was getting dark, but there were still no signs of the hordes. He had to head back now, or else he’ll get caught up in more fighting he didn’t want. He definitely couldn’t afford it, either. He knew his bullet supply was limited. He sighed, giving the lock on the gate one last forlorn look. The ‘key’, whatever that might be, seemed to be some sort of gear or gizmo that would fit in the indentation of the lock. Basch guessed it would be a cog, since the indent was a rather bubbly circle. It would need to have a gap in the middle, and he doubted there would be a key hanging around THAT big.

He ran his fingers along the indentation slowly, wishing it would just pop open. It didn’t, of course. He turned around and started walking back to the shack.

“Your father tends the sheep...... mother shakes the branches small..... lovely dreams in showers fall....”  Basch sang softly, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. He kept his eyes straight, but soon found himself squinting, especially when he passed the Torching. He pulled his night vision goggles on, adjusting them every few steps. They were too big for his head, but the last time he tried adjusting the belt, it fell to pieces, so he just left it like that.

He started getting lost in his memories again, recalling the day they announced the outbreak.

“All students, report to the auditorium.”  The speakers requested over and over, unceasingly until every student that wasn’t sick or dead was accounted for. Everyone knew something was up. They knew it ever since the first death, but this just confirmed their suspicions.

“A student recently attempted to create a mixture not in our Alchemy course.” The Dean began. He had a way of making the students feel smaller than him. Like they were all five-year-olds. But then again, he had always been an intimidating man, even when he wasn’t trying to be.

“This mixture, which has been called the Dragoste Formula, was placed in the cafeteria food as an attempt at a prank.” He continued, “It has, indeed, caused a death on school grounds, and multiple illnesses. The culprit has been detained, and the food has been quarantined. If, however, you have ingested the cafeteria food recently, it is highly advised that you visit the nurse’s office immediately.”

There had been something strange in his tone when he said this. Everyone could feel it, but they still stood and walked themselves to the nurse’s office. Basch and others stayed behind. Neither he nor his sister ate the cafeteria food, and it was obvious there was more to this than the Dean had said so far. Lili had looked scared, so Basch held her hand as the Dean waited for the last of the cafeteria crowd to leave. When they were gone, he gave out a final call, and when no one else stood, the doors around them were locked.

The students inside the auditorium freaked out when they heard the locks. Basch had even begun panicking, but he wouldn’t let go of Lili. The Dean called for order and silence, and after a few stressful minutes, he was given it.

“You are all now being quarantined.” He said to them, faces of worry and fear being his only response, “The rest of the students will be eradicated if found ill. Do not worry for them, it’s for the best of the school and its student body.”

They sat in the auditorium for nearly three days. They were given small rations of food, from where it came, no one asked. All the students had ended up huddling together in the middle of the auditorium, some using the chairs as beds, others using their friends or significant others as body warmers. Basch and Lili stayed side by side, but their other friends had joined them too, luckily.

Basch got back into his shack, tossing his night-vision goggles aside and dropping himself onto his bed, nearly laying on the laptop. He pulled it close, the screen light becoming the only light source in the room, and he looked through his previous videos. He didn’t have a real reason to scroll through them. He knew what most of them contained, the others were most likely less important. He stopped scrolling before he got too far, though, knowing that he would end up in the videos before everyone was gone. He didn’t have the guts to watch them now. He doubted he would ever brave them.

He wished he could watch them without feeling sick, or even just look at the thumbnail. It had been so long... he had forgotten what they all looked like.

Even Lili....

He shook his head and sat up, crossing his legs on the bed and tilting the screen so the built-in web camera faced him. He started recording a new video, and he leaned in towards the pale blue screen.

“Year three.... Day one hundred and twenty six... I still need to look for socks. The cans in the storage unit was just condensed milk, but I’ll go back to get them anyway. Even though it’s not food, it’s still something, right? I did grab the tarp, though. Keeps the snow off well, though the snow has lightened up since yesterday.”

Basch stroked his chin as he thought of what to say next. There was no point to these videos, and he knew that, but he felt like this video-diary would keep him human. It would keep him sane. It definitely gave him something to look forward to. It would help keep his thoughts and plans of action organized, if he wasn’t already so down-to-earth. He really didn’t have to make these videos, but he continued to do it anyway. And he tried to make them with as much detail as possible. Every little observation, every little weather change, every little adjustment in the hordes....

The hordes....

Basch looked up at the screen, staring at himself with a serious expression. “When I had gone to get the condensed milk and the tarp, I ran into the hordes. Nothing unusual, of course, they always show up when I’m trying to look for something.... But.... and don’t take this the wrong way! But I.... I think they’re.... learning...?” Basch rubbed his chin again, trying to figure out how to explain it better, “Maybe not exactly that... maybe they’re... evolving? Or... becoming human again?”

He sighed and shifted a bit, then leaned towards the screen again, staring into his eyes, “Look, I had been hiding in a closet when one of them came into the room I was in and started.... well... it started talking. Not in complete sentences or anything, no, but.... It said... ‘Mom... It hurts...’ a-and... I shot it and smashed it’s skull in with Cassidy, and when I looked back I saw it’s brother.... his brother, kneeling over the body and... crying.”

Basch was quiet for a minute, still staring at himself, then he said, “I think... after all, I am going insane...”

His watch beeped and he silenced it quickly, then sighed and bowed his head in prayer, murmuring the words slowly, following it with “I’m not religious... I’m just scared.”


	3. Broken Legs, Broken Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, Berwald, it's called 'Hide-and-Seek' for a reason, you gigantic prick.

Basch was making his rounds as usual, only one thing on his mind. Socks. He really needed some. He was down to his last few pairs, and even those were riddled with holes and tears. He had decided to check the dorms first. It was always easy to find clothes there, but after three years, he had definitely run low on clothes that would fit him.

But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t try. And try he did. He had just finished searching through both the A-Dorms and the B-Dorms, both sections coming up fruitless. All that was left were the C-Dorms and Staff rooms, both located at the other side of the school. It would only take about ten minutes to reach them, but that would be if he took the path through the school, which was not only dangerous, but really, entirely, utterly, profoundly stupid.

He cocked Cassidy and began his trek through the labyrinth that is the main school building. Within the first few feet of entering the building, he could feel the temperature drop and an anxious nagging building up in the back of his head.

They’re slow, but dangerous. They’re dumb, but strong. They don’t plan, they just do. Basch kept repeating this in his head, walking faster and faster through the halls, feeling the adrenaline start to pump through his veins and burn his head. Even though he hadn’t been inside the school for a year at least, he could still remember the halls and turns like the back of his hand. As he continued down the dim and empty halls, he could hear the distant echoes of those creatures, hissing and grunting and spitting. His mind was telling him to run, but he knew if he did, they would just find him faster. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes beginning to sting. He didn’t even want to blink while in this place.

He turned a corner, and stopped. Clogging the hall was a horde, but they hadn’t noticed him. They were all turned towards something else, groaning in near unison. Basch started to back up, his heartbeat matching that of a racehorse, and he hid behind the wall, thinking of another path to the other side. He stroked the barrel of his gun, coming up with a new route quickly, then he looked out into the hall again, seeing the horde becoming a bit more restless. He retraced his steps for a few halls, then found his detour route and followed it, sneaking through a few deserted classrooms in order to get there.

He ended up going up a floor, but that’s what he wanted. He could make the jump out of the second story window, he’s done it plenty of times. Sure, it hurts like a bitch, but he just had to suck it up. Luckily, he thought, there’s a layer of snow out there to dull the impact.

He found himself in the Alchemy room. He closed the door behind him and went to the window, looking out to make sure there weren’t any creatures coming. He gave the room a quick once over, then knelt down to tighten his laces. He double-knotted them, tugging on them to make sure they were secure, then smirked a little when he remembered the first time he jumped out a window. He landed on his side, breaking his wrist, and he had bounced. He had lost a shoe from it, and he still hasn’t found it. Roderich scolded him and nearly broke his other wrist because of it.

When his shoes were secured, he stood up straight and rolled his shoulders a few times, Cassidy bumping against the small of his back, then he pulled the window open and climbed out, hanging onto the sill as he prepared for his jump . He took a deep breath, mentally wished that his landing wouldn’t be too loud, then he hopped. Upon landing, he let himself roll forward, stopping in a sitting position so he could hunch over and squeeze his calves, hissing in pain. He got up not a minute afterwards, shaking off a few flakes of snow, then resumed his journey to the C-Dorms.

He let out a small sigh of relief. The creatures didn’t see him go through the school, which means he could probably sneak through again to get back to the shack. That is, if the clogged hall frees up by the time he’s done here.

When he got into the dorms, he begun his search for a few pairs of socks that would fit his feet. As he searched, he couldn’t help but think about back when he was in the auditorium with the others. It was silly, how scared he felt back then was nothing compared to how scared he should feel now.

He had been so relieved when Roderich, Gilbert, and Tino found them. They all sat with each other and immediately started talking about the Dragoste Formula.

“What is it, exactly?” Basch had asked, keeping a hand on Lili’s arm more for his own sake than hers, “What was it supposed to do?”

“The rumours going around suggests the culprit wanted to poison one of the students.” Roderich gossiped, glancing around the room and adjusting his glasses, “Of course, it makes no sense if he had put the mixture in the cafeteria food rather than just his victim’s.”

Leave it to Roderich to nitpick at people’s theories.

“I bet it was Alfred they wanted dead. That guy’s always running his mouth about business that ain’t his.” Gilbert snorted, kicking his feet out in front of him and leaning back on his hands.

“If it was Alfred, then it only makes sense that Arthur put it in there. They hate each other.” Basch pointed out, only to be shot down by a flat, “No, Arthur wouldn’t do that.” by Roderich.

“What do you mean he wouldn’t? They’re always fighting in Calculus.” Basch tried to convince him, but Roderich shook his head, about to speak just when Tino cut in.

“Aren’t they brothers or something?” He asked, making Basch and Gilbert lean forward simultaneously in shock.

“Cousins, actually.” Roderich corrected, “But they used to live in together with Alfred’s mother.”

“I heard Arthur was kicked out by his parents.” Tino informed, and Roderich gave him a slighted look.

“Actually...” Lili spoke up, looking down at her lap, “He t-told me he had run away...” Her voice broke off near the end, and Gilbert asked her to repeat it, but she refused.

“She said he told her he had ran away.” Basch supplied them, and they all looked at each other doubtingly.

“He’s such a priss, though!” Gilbert argued, “If princess here can’t even go outside barefoot, I doubt fancy-pants Arthur could run away from home.”

“Hey! Stop calling me Princess!” Roderich hissed, but Tino spoke over their ensuing spat, agreeing with Gilbert, “I was actually thinking the same thing, too...”

“I am not a princess!” Roderich defended himself, “Just because I don’t want to get my feet dirty doesn’t make me a princess!”

Basch, Tino, and Gilbert all looked at each other, their boyish instinct to taunt taking over.

“Do you want me to scrub your feet, miss?” Basch began, taking one of Roderich’s feet in his hand.

“Just make sure the brush isn’t too brittle, it might harm her delicate skin!” Tino interjected, an apologetic look on his face, but a smile saying he wouldn’t regret this.

“The fair maiden’s skin is her most cherished attribute!” Gilbert joined, looping an arm around Basch’s shoulders and smirking like an ass. Lili didn’t speak, but she was giggling into her hands, watching in amusement as Roderich got even more flustered.

“Shut up!” He yelled, making all three boys laugh and pretend to be scared.

“Oh, the fair maiden rose her voice!”

“How unladylike!”

“She’ll never find her prince like this!”

But after a short series of taunts, Roderich begun to pout and cross his arms, so they apologized half-assedly and went back to their previous topic.

“What did he run away for? Did he tell you?” Gilbert asked Lili, getting a bit too close for both her and Basch’s liking. She scooted closer to Basch and shook her head, letting Basch put his arm around her shoulder and pull her closer.

“So it wasn’t Arthur...” Tino sighed.

“Well, if the victim was indeed Alfred, it wasn’t Arthur.” Roderich reminded them, lowering his wall of prudishness to keep the conversation going. After a minute of silent thinking, Gilbert scratched his ear and asked, “So... Who had died?”

They all looked at Gilbert in disbelief, as if he should know, but their looks turned to confusion and they looked at one another.

“I... I don’t know.” Roderich said first, bringing a hand delicately to his forehead.

“Me neither...” Tino admitted. Basch and Lili just shook their heads, but they didn’t go unanswered for long.

“It was a first-year.” A voice from behind Basch came. He and Lili, along with the others, turned to look, seeing the Dean’s son, Berwald, looming over them. He had his father’s intimidating look of indifference, “It was Yao’s younger brother. Im Yong Soo. It wasn’t announced.”

“Why wasn’t it?” Tino asked casually, but the others got a little uncomfortable with Berwald there.

“The family didn’t want to make it public. ‘Spose it’s worthless information now.” Berwald prattled on, keeping his eyes on the gang, “Can I sit with you?”

“Sorry, brother, we’re a little filled up at the moment.” Gilbert responded automatically, getting a dirty look from Roderich, but he didn’t say anything. Basch looked down and Lili looked at Basch. Tino crossed his legs and cleared his throat.

“Right.” Berwald sighed, looking away from them, then scratching his cheek, “I guess I’ll see you later.” With that, he left, and everyone let out a small sigh of relief.

“What’s his problem?” Gilbert snorted, getting another glare from Roderich.

“You should be nicer to him! He answered our question!” He scolded, but Gilbert gave him a disbelieving look and said, “I didn’t see you jumping up and down to let him sit with us either, Roddy.”

Roderich looked away and crossed his arms, but he didn’t look angry. Tino shrugged a little and played with his laces, “I think he’s just misunderstood...”

“Oh shut up, boy, you didn’t want him sitting with us either.” Gilbert grumbled and rolled his eyes, defending his decision when no one was actually against it.

Basch looked past Lili, towards Berwald who had taken a chair near the corner of the room and was sitting there by himself, watching everyone else chat and comfort each other. Sure, he felt a little guilty about the whole thing, but he didn’t particularly like Berwald either.

Basch just exited the Staff Dorms. He had found five pairs of socks, a couple stray ones, and a new pair of boots that all fit him. All he had to do was carry it all back to the Janitor’s shack and he would be good for the day. He would check the hall to see if it was still crowded, and if it was, he would make the thirty minute trek around the school instead. He didn’t have to shoot anything today, and he didn’t want to break his rare streak.

He gathered up the socks in the tarp, hanging it off his shoulder like a bag, and tied the boot strings together, hanging them around his neck. When he got to the hallway previously clogged by the horde, he found it to be empty and speed-walked down the halls, keeping his eyes active as he searched for a sign of the hordes.

When he was about halfway through the school, he could start to feel a twinge of hope in his chest. Maybe today will be the first day he wouldn’t have to shoot anything or ‘kill’ anything.... He would even skip out on going to the gate if it meant he went a whole day without firing a single bullet!

He just passed the stairwell when he saw him, standing at the end of the hall unlike the other creatures. His knee was warped, but he still managed to stay standing straight.

Basch took a step back, eyes glued to the motionless creature.

“Basch....” Feliciano hissed, taking a step forward, then dragging his damaged leg behind him. Basch grabbed his gun and aimed, feeling the panic bubble inside of him. He really didn’t want to break his short streak. He was having such a good day.

He stepped forward again, growling gutturally, but his progress towards Basch was faster than before, even thought it was just slightly so. Basch backed up more, ending up on the stairs. He shot his gun twice, once in his shoulder, once in his thigh, but it kept advancing. Basch was just about to hop off the steps and take off down the hall he had come from, but one look showed that his path was blocked by a horde. He could try going past Feliciano, and would have any other time, but the way he was acting and the way he was moving made him even more unpredictable than usual. If he tried to run past, Basch wasn’t entirely sure he would make it this time.

Feliciano stopped walking, panting hard and glaring at Basch, “V-Basch...!” He hissed, a scowl showing on his dirtied face.

Basch turned and ran up the steps, Feliciano’s animalistic screech following him and alerting the rest of the horde of his presence. Basch continued to run, thinking he’ll be able to jump out the second story window again, but when he reached the second floor, he saw he was already surrounded. He gripped his gun, knowing well enough that he couldn’t shoot through a horde this thick. He couldn’t even see the end of it, and they were getting closer.

“Basch!” He heard Feliciano scream from below. The only way out was up, he supposed, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to make a jump from the roof without injury. He ran up anyway, pulling himself up faster with the railing. When he got to the roof, he barricaded the door as best as he could, knowing it definitely wouldn’t stop them from getting out. When that was done, he went to the edge of the roof, looking down to try and find a safe spot to jump. He couldn’t see any trees within jumping distance. He would break his feet if he tried this. He went to the other side and looked, still finding nothing. He had to jump. Broken feet is better than dead. But would he be able to get away?

It had looked like the horde was mostly on the second floor, but how long would it take them to reach him compared to how long it would take him to crawl back to the shack?

Basch went back to the other side, hoping he missed something, but he still saw nothing. The door to the stairs begun rattling, sending a new wave of adrenaline through Basch. He went back to the other side, swallowing thickly and looking, trying to think of any other way out of this, but his mind was blank.

Cassidy only held fourteen rounds, and he used two already. It definitely wouldn’t be enough to get through the horde. He ran his fingers through his hair, tears starting to burn his eyes. He had to risk it. He had to jump. He had to break his feet. He would die if he didn’t.

“Fuck!” Basch cried, crouching down and panting hard, his heart deafening him to everything but the rhythmic banging on the door. He looked to the door, seeing it dent forward and arms burst through the opening, reaching for him. He ran his fingers through his hair again, then cried out again, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He felt the tears running down his cheeks and he actually let out a sob. He was scared. Terrified of what was going to happen. He swallowed back his tears and stood up straight, heading towards the ledge and looking down. His hands had started shaking. The door broke down, making Basch flinch and turn around, looking at horror at the horde breaking through, making their way for him.

If only he knew magic. If only he knew a spell. If only he were as smart as Roderich.

The hordes got closer to him, reaching out for him. He had to jump, but his legs were frozen. His breathing got harder and he could already anticipate the pain. He had to jump! Just jump! Jump!

“Jump!” A clear voice shouted. A voice that didn’t belong to the creatures. A voice that definitely wasn’t Basch’s. But he obeyed, eyes glued to the hordes, he kicked himself off the ledge and began to fall, his heart practically stopping and his mind going numb. He closed his eyes, held his arms close to his chest, and prepared for impact, prepared for the shattering pain that was sure to erupt in his legs.

Before he could hit the floor, though, he felt something- no... someone grab his arm tightly, making him gasp, then yelp when he body slammed against the brick wall of the school building. He wheezed hard, feeling his lungs fluxuate, and his mind begun to race, unable to process the fact that he had been caught, and was now being pulled up into the window of the second floor History room. It felt like his arm was being pulled off, but when he was high enough, he felt an arm loop around his chest, underneath his armpits, and he was lugged into the room, falling back on the person who saved him. He let out a shuttering breath, having a hard time coming to terms with what just happened. He rolled off the other person, but their hand stayed on his arm, thumb pressing into his elbow.

“Are you... okay?” The person asked, voice painfully familiar, but when Basch looked at him, he couldn’t bring a name to his face. He nodded slowly, beginning to shake.

“We need to get out of here.” The man said, getting up and gently pulling Basch to his feet. The man stood much taller than Basch, but he looked much older as well. His glare stayed on Basch as the blond stared at him, still panting hard. He looked so familiar.... so much like... like...

“Dean?!” Basch exclaimed, getting an arched brow from the man staring down at him. He shook his head and Basch’s head spun, “Th-then who are you...?”

The man looked up towards the ceiling, then said “They’ll realize you haven’t hit the ground. We have to hurry.” With that, he grabbed Basch’s wrist and started pulling him towards the door, Basch stumbling behind him. His knees were still knocking together, and he could barely choke out a simple ‘Thank you’ without stammering.

They got down to the first floor when Basch dropped to his knees, feeling weaker than ever. His stomach had even started rolling. The man looked over him, then tilted his chin up and looked into his eyes before he tugged him back to his feet.

“You had a bit too much of an adrenaline rush, but you’ll be ok.” He said flatly, pulling Basch’s arm over his shoulder and continuing to walk. The man had to hunch over a bit so Basch’s feet could be flat on the floor, but their pace was still rushed.

“You’re probably in shock too, from seeing me...” He muttered, turning his head constantly to make sure there weren’t any creatures.

“Where did you... ugh...” Basch clutched his stomach, letting himself lean on the man as they shuffled through the school halls. The man put his other arm around Basch’s waist, dragging him along tirelessly and quickly.

“I’ll answer your questions when we get to the shack.” He reassured Basch, finding the exit soon and rushing towards it. When they were out in the snow, the man headed straight for the shack, occasionally glancing behind them to make sure they weren’t followed.

“Wait...” Basch groaned out, but the man wouldn’t stop walking. They were about to pass the stump. The couldn’t pass the stump, “Wait...! Wait...! The... the mines!”

The man froze, then looked down at Basch, “The what?”

“The mines! S-scattered.... ugh... the arrows point.... to the path....” He pointed shakily at the ground, and the man looked down before he kicked aside the snow, uncovering a small arrow pointing to the left.

“What does this mean? Do I go left?” The man asked, looking down at Basch, who was slowly starting to get himself together again. He nodded, then said “But only for a few steps... five...”

The man nodded, then took five reasonably sized steps to the left, then kicked the snow aside to find the next arrow.

“This will take us to the door?” He asked, following arrow after arrow with Basch still hanging onto him.

“Yeah... just be patient...”

After a few minutes of back and forth and side to side, much to the man’s disdain, they made it to the shack and he opened up the door, carrying Basch back to his bed and sitting him down.

“What a system...” He muttered insultingly, getting a glare from the blond.

“It’ll keep them at bay long enough for me to escape. That’s all that’s important.” Basch defended himself, laying on his bed and rubbing his stomach. He felt a bit worried, and looked at the man before saying, “This is just because of the adrenaline, right...? I’m not... turning?”

The man looked at him in surprise, then sighed and shook his head, the corner of his lip almost turning up in a smile, “Just adrenaline.” He reassured him, going through Basch’s things, then pulling out a can of condensed milk.

“Is this all you have?” He asked, looking at the can. Basch snorted and nodded, “It’s all I can find... I’ve been living off of that crap for a week...” The man hummed in thought, then put it back and went over to Basch, kneeling beside his bed and putting a hand on his neck, feeling his pulse, “Well, you’ve calmed down. That’s good.”

“I feel better.” Basch commented, still rubbing his stomach. The man nodded a bit, then sat down on the cold floor and placed his hands in his lap, “We should get the questioning done now. We have a limited amount of time.”

Basch frowned and sat up a little, “Until what?”

The man shifted his position, then said, “We’ll get to that later, after the questioning is done.”

Basch sighed and rubbed his forehead, then asked “Then, who are you?”

The man seemed surprised again, then asked “You really don’t remember me?” Basch shook his head, frowning to himself. He looked familiar, he really did, but if he’s not the Dean, who else could it be? The man sighed and scratched his cheek, his fingers bumping his glasses a few times.

“Berwald.” He said flatly, and it fell quiet after that. Basch stared at him and he kept fidgeting with his glasses, keeping his eyes downcast. A tense few minutes swept by with no answer, so he looked up at Basch and asked a simple, “What?”

“You can’t be Berwald.” Basch said robotically, “You have to be thirty at most. Berwald was my age.”

“Gimme a few months here and I’ll be your age again.” ‘Berwald’ claimed, sticking his nose up as if he was tired of hearing this, “No matter how stupid this’ll sound, I’m from the future.”

Basch continued to stare at him blankly, entirely unamused and doubtful. They stared at each other for a minute, then Berwald crossed his arms and said, “It’s true. I’m not retracting that statement.”

“Then you’re delusional.” Basch declared, brows raising, “Even with science or magic or alchemy, you can’t go through time.”

“But that’s exactly it. You can’t go through time with science or magic or alchemy. You have to use all three.” He explained, but Basch still didn’t believe him.

“No one can use all three. You’re either one or the other or the other. Hell, not even every student here can learn one!” Basch snorted, and ‘Berwald’ questioned, “You mean like you?”

The tension thickened and Basch started hating this imposter.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me who you are, then at least tell me how you got here.” Basch demanded, sitting upright and crossing his legs, looking down at the man, even if he didn’t have to look too far down.

“I got here using time travel.” He answered, pissing Basch off further.

“No! You didn’t! How did you get through the gate? Where were you hiding?! Who are you?!” Basch yelled, getting very annoyed with the only other living person on this campus.

“I did. I didn’t get through the gate, I was locked in with everyone else after the Torching. I hid in the future, after being brought there by-!” He stopped, then looked down, something on his mind bothering him.

“.... By who?” Basch asked, uneasy at the sudden silence.

“No one... nothing.... just... just believe me.” He looked up at Basch again, “You know you’ll have to. I can even prove I’m from the future, but you’d have to at least stick a foot in the water.”

Basch was still doubtful, and he showed it on his face. ‘Berwald’ kept eye contact though, almost conveying sincerity with those nearly soulless eyes.

“Prove to me you’re Berwald first.” Basch finally said, crossing his arms and squinting his eyes, “Then we’ll see where we go from there.”

He looked relieved at first, then nervous, “We don’t have long. Please keep an open mind.”

“What’ll happen if we wait too long?” Basch asked, raising a brow. ‘Berwald’ looked away, then said “I’ll explain when you believe me.”

He stood up and looked around, then said “Let me make you food first.” making Basch snort in amusement.

“Go ahead, you have a whole arsenal of ingredients here. Not to mention the kitchen filled with cooking utensils.” He said sarcastically, laying down and stretching out on his bed.

‘Berwald’ glanced at him, then continued looking through his stash of condensed milk cans. He picked them up and sloshed them around, then sighed and asked half-heartedly, “How does condensed milk sound?”

“Oh, I haven’t tasted that stuff in ages, I’m craving it so bad.” Basch moaned sarcastically, throwing his arms above his head, letting them hang off the bed from the elbows up. ‘Berwald’ found the can opener quickly and opened it up, sloshing the creamy white around in the can as he stared down at it, then he shuddered and walked over to the blond.

“Have any spoons or... bowls?” He asked, and Basch pointed over to the toolbox.

“Just grab some spoons, we’ll eat from the same can.” He said, taking the opened can from ‘Berwald’ as he got up to look for the spoons. He swirled the milky contents, peering in with a grimace, then snatched the spoon presented to him when ‘Berwald’ came back. He dunked the spoon in and was just about to take a mouthful when ‘Berwald’ stopped him.

“Wait, wait, there might be something I can do.” He said, getting a curious look from the blond whose mouth was still agape. He clenched it shut, then watched quietly as ‘Berwald’ placed the can on the floor, angling it so the lid that was still hanging onto it was away from the man. He thought for a minute, eyes closed and hands hovering a few inches above the milk, then nodded, as if remembering something.

“What are you-”

“Shush” ‘Berwald’ quickly interrupted him, then took in a deep breath. His fingertips started emitting a glowing blue powder, sprinkling down on the condensed milk and disappearing almost immediately into the liquid. When the powder stopped falling, he hummed in thought and stirred it with his spoon, then made a face and handed it to Basch, “Taste it.”

“Taste... What? You probably just poisoned it!” Basch scoffed doubtfully, pushing the can away. ‘Berwald’ rolled his eyes and took a spoonful, gulping it down quickly and emotionlessly, then pushed it towards Basch again.

“Taste.” He ordered, and Basch grimaced at the sight of it. He let out a small sigh, knowing he would have to eat it sooner or later, and he dipped his spoon in, not taking the can out of ‘Berwald’s’ hand, then let the liquid run over his tongue, face already grimaced in preparation for the sugary, overfamiliar taste, but was shocked and equally elated when he tasted not condensed milk, but a freshly cooked, still hot lambchop, sided with mashed potatoes and peas.

“Holy cra-ugh” He lowered his head and leaned forward a bit, forgetting to swallow before speaking. ‘Berwald’s’ brows rose in amusement as Basch wiped his chin clean of condensed milk, both slightly embarrassed for him.

“Well? How does it taste?” ‘Berwald’ asked almost smugly. His face was still stoic as ever, but there was this glint in his eye.

“Amazing! Fantastic!” Basch bellowed after finally swallowing, “I haven’t eaten anything like this since... since....”

Their excitement cooled quickly and Basch’s happiness died in his stomach, his smile turning to a scowl and his eyes narrowing.

“The Torching?” ‘Berwald’ guessed, and Basch closed his eyes and nodded. Another silent minute, then Basch muttered coldly, “If... If you’re really Berwald....”

They looked at each other, empty eyes meeting empty eyes, both a shattered blue from suffering the same loss from different people.

“If you’re really Berwald... Where did you go? Why did you leave us?” The air only got tense as ‘Berwald’ searched for the correct answer, and when he had it, it only got worse. He lowered his head, pressing his fingertips together nervously, then said in his deep, grizzly voice,

“I.... I was taken to the future.”

Basch closed his eyes again and rubbed his forehead, “Look, this ‘future’ crap is really starting to annoy me.”

“It’s not crap! I was really taken to the future! By.... Well... someone from the future. Then.... He...” He looked up at Basch, making eye contact again, “I watched him die. He was literally torn apart by the hordes. Piece by piece. Right in front of my eyes.”

Basch turned away, uncomfortable, “I’m.... I’m sorry...” He muttered, not completely sure if he was making it up, but that stare was one that he knew was filled with grief and remorse. He saw it plenty of times.

They went quiet again, then ‘Berwald’ said, “He.... He told me to come back and get you. So we can try again.”

“Try what again?” Basch asked, leaning forward a bit. He was intrigued already, but the reality of this ‘future’ was still being debated in his mind.

“Our plan. I’ll explain it to you when you believe me.” ‘Berwald’ said, nudging the can towards Basch, “Finish eating, we have things to go over before we get there.”

Basch frowned and grabbed the can, sputtering out, “Whoa, wait, get where? What things? And you still haven’t proved you’re Berwald!”

They stared each other down for the nth time that day, then Berwald sighed and tilted his head to the side, muttering just loudly enough for Basch to hear, “I was told about this so many times and I never thought it was real but....”

Basch was just about to question, but Berwald rolled his head to the other side, this dead, ashamed look in his eye and he said in possibly the most humorous, most mocking, highest voice he could muster, “Berwald, Berwald, his face is a wall, he’s big and mean, but has no balls. Call him a name, and before you blink, you’ll be ass-up in the ground, courtesy of the Dean.”

Basch started cracking up, then quickly bit back his laughter and choked out, “I- I never t-took part in m-making that!”

“Oh, of course you didn’t.” ‘Berwald’ said in his normal voice, though it was dripping with sarcasm. Basch took a few breaths to calm himself down, then shook his head and said, “But that still doesn’t prove you’re-”

“It really does. Anyone who’s taunted like that for five plus years tends to show it.” He said bitterly, and Basch’s humour died. He let out a small, shameful sigh and muttered a small apology. They were quiet for a bit longer until Basch asked, “So... What’s this plan?”

Blue eyes met blue, and Berwald asked, “Where are your blueprints?”


End file.
